


We're Entertainers

by GreenCD



Series: The Family That Slays Together [1]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor is cute, Alternate Universe - Human, Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Blood and Gore, Cannabalism, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Murder, Radio Host Alastor, Tv Star Vox, Vox is also respectful, Vox is just in love and too desensitized to this shit, but also kills and eats people which is problematic, gore really ranges from light to medium-ish, or like a lot of swearing, there will be chapter warnings, there's a little bit of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22126945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenCD/pseuds/GreenCD
Summary: They're entertainers. Simple as that. Entertainers looking to make their fucked up lives work.(This is a pilot/preview for a series I may do depending on how well liked the idea is and how easy it is to write. Inspired by the Netflix Series Santa Clarita Diet.)
Relationships: Alastor/Vox (Hazbin Hotel)
Series: The Family That Slays Together [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595458
Comments: 19
Kudos: 169





	We're Entertainers

**Author's Note:**

> Short story inspired by Santa Clarita Diet on Netflix. Go watch the series but be warned there is quite a lot of swearing and violence. I have a series I could write for this idea, but it all depends on how well liked this story is. Hope you guys enjoy cause this thing took me way longer than expected.

A deep sigh left Vox’s mouth as his hazel eyes glared at the monitor in front of him. Vox Alberdan, Los Angeles’ most famous tv host and the owner of the Demon Television Broadcast station—or DTB for short—watched as his two idiotic news anchors bickered back and forth. Separate, they were some of the best news casters in all of California, but together they couldn’t hold a professional atmosphere for two damn seconds. He had hired the pair in hopes of increasing ratings for his otherwise lackluster news program, and he succeeded but at quite the annoying cost.

“You sure are a limp dick jackass, Tom.”

“Oh and you are a fiery fucking cunt, Katie.”

Vox rolled his eyes as the audience laughed at their banter. This had become the usual over the past few months and what had once shocked Vox into cutting the news broadcast off for a full day has become just another annoyance in his life. Nothing succeeded in surprising him anymore, and he had witnessed Katie pour a fresh, hot cup of coffee on Trench’s dick just last week. Ratings were rising with the number of insults the pair threw at each other, but if he had to hear from that news station across town about how he was so “unclouth” for allowing such behavior on set, he was liable to shoot someone. Again.

Vox ran a hand through his gelled, black hair and let out another sigh as the news switched over to the weather for the evening. It was gonna be chilly again and Vox let himself drift off for a few moments to think about his plans tonight. The time on the monitor read 4:14 and he switched on the small radio on his desk. If he was lucky, he would be out of the station and heading home by 6:30. A little late for him, but it could be much worse. Last Sunday he hadn’t gotten home until 12:45 and his boyfriend had already gone to bed, leaving him alone with only a cold bowl of chicken jambalaya to keep him company. Lord help him he would be home by 7:00 tonight and he was gonna waltz in, kiss his man, and have a lovely damn dinner for once.

The radio came to life at 4:15.

“Good evening my dears!” A smooth voice immediately filled the room and Vox felt his whole body relax at the pretty sound. Alastor Moore, Los Angeles’ favorite radio voice, and the owner of Hazbin Frequencies, cheerfully announced his final broadcast for the night. The city loved to hear his voice and—lucky for both parties—Alastor loved to talk. “It’s Sunday which means tonight is jazz night here at the station! Let’s start out this lovely evening with Take Five by the Dave Brubeck, before moving into some nice smooth beats with Mr. Ellington himself. Then we’ll finish off our lovely evening with a collection of classical jazz hits, sure to get your feet tapping all night long.” An echoing laugh and the music started. Vox's smile sweetly as he imagined Alastor humming along to the music. Bouncing in his seat with his auburn hair swaying back and forth with his hips. He wouldn’t tell him this, but Vox found Alastor absolutely adorable and in just a few hours he would finally be home to see him.

Vox was interrupted from his daydream about Alastor by a loud crash coming from the monitor. His head shot up off of his hand as he watched that red dress, blonde bitch sock her co-host right in the face. Vox's jaw dropped to the floor as Katie then jumped down on top of Tom and the fight was on. "Are you fucking kidding me!?" He screamed in outrage, black striped suit quickly rushing out of the office and down the hallway, barreling past anyone in his way. The shouts and screams coming from the newsroom only increased the ball of rage in his chest, with only a brief thought to how his plans tonight were ruined by his two bitchy news anchors.

He didn't leave the studio until 11:00 p.m.

— — — — —

Lights were on and the curtains were drawn shut when Vox pulled into the driveway and he felt a small smile finally appear on his face. It was 11:32 and his boyfriend was still awake, much to his surprise. Turning the car off and listening to the dying hum of the engine, the tv-host quickly gathered all of his things and stepped out of the car. The beep of the lock reverberated throughout the yard as hot, short breaths danced with the chilled night air. Black dress shoes clicked against the pavement of the walkway as Vox approached the door, his heart beginning to beat a little faster. He lifted his keys to the lock and felt his whole body shiver in anticipation at the long anticipated rest that waited for him beyond the dark, oak door. Without another moments wait, Vox pushed into the house.

Their house was warm when Vox stepped in and he took a few moments to breathe in the loving, homy atmosphere that manifested throughout the air. The home has always been a safe, cozy space ever since the pair had decided to move in together. Dull gray walls accented with black and white molding that worked wonderfully with the red accent pieces scattered around the house. The foyer—that acts as more of a coffee room for when Alastor’s good friends Rosie and Mimzy would come to visit—was decorated with a lush black couch and two smaller seats, packed with red pillows of all different shapes and sizes. Vox still remembered when they had gone to pick out said furniture and Alastor had enthusiastically grabbed every single red accent piece he could find. His favorite color was red after all.

A thick black coat was hung up on the coat rack next to the door and black shoes were slid from tired feet. Soft, jazzy beats accompanied by sweet humming filled his ears as Vox walked past the foyer and towards the kitchen. He felt a song welling up in his own throat at the sound of his love’s voice and it only took him a few seconds to recognize the songstress. Billie Holiday, one of Alastor’s favorite slow jazz singers. He had said that she reminded him of his own mother, who would sing the same tunes to him as a young boy. Vox hummed a few verses to himself quietly while he quickly straightened out his hair, before turning the corner to enter the kitchen.

He wished he could say that this scene had long since failed to get his heart racing with an abundance of emotions, but that would be a lie. A few feet in front of him stood his sweet, gorgeous Alastor, swaying his thin hips to the beat playing from an old radio on the kitchen counter. The young man was a buzzing mess of hums and twitching as he expertly worked on a bloody mass of flesh splayed out on the kitchen island. Dark brown pants trailed up skinny legs that shook with the tapping of feet. Old red vest and white button up clinging to the dancing man. Sleeves rolled up past his tan elbows to prevent stains on the white fabric and to make it easier to move his arms. Despite this precaution, Alastor’s clothes were dotted with little specks of blood—both new and old—and the soft skin of his arms were drenched in a thick red coating. On his right cheek rested a single streak of red from were Alastor had hastily wiped at the skin in the middle of his cutting. The red mass lead into both the mop of long, messy, brown hair on top of his head and the dazzling smile he always insisted on wearing. Alastor looked positively gorgeous stained red and rocking himself to the smooth beats as he turned his head to the side and finally took full notice of the other occupant of the room.

Alastor gave him a huge grin to which Vox lovingly returned. “Welcome home my dear.” The smaller of the two purred, setting the knife down next to the corpse and making quick work of the blood on his hands with a hand towel. Vox stepped further into the room and took a second to look at the victim. She was a younger woman and he could tell she had been quite attractive by what parts had yet to be sliced off. Her blood and insides had been strewn along the table in a horrendous display that would cause any lesser man to question all humanity. He turned away from the sad scene in front of him when an arm looped around his own to the right. Sparkling, chestnut brown eyes stared up at him and prompted Vox to lean over and lay a sweet kiss onto Alastor’s hair, breathing in the strawberry smell of his shampoo.

“You’re twitching, hun.” Vox whispered after a few moments, rubbing Alastor’s back in slow, soothing circles.

“I know, dear. That jackass at the radio station was messing with my tracks again, so I went hunting to blow off some steam. This sweetheart hardly gave me any chase at all. Went down faster than a deer in headlights. I’m still brimming with unused adrenaline.” Alastor muttered, burying his face in Vox’s chest. 

The tv host chuckled a little. “Aw. Your first kill in months and you didn’t even get to have your fun.” This earned his a slap to the chest and a scoff as Alastor pulled away from the hold. Vox took a few seconds to look over the body again. “That why she’s cut weird too, babe? Too keyed up to butcher her right?”

An amused laugh sounded in the kitchen as Alastor’s smile grew. “How dare you. My cuts are always immaculate.” He grabbed the knife from the table and tapped the blade against lips in consideration. “I’m thinking pasta tonight. I can make a garlic sauce for you and a meat sauce for me with some of these lovely biceps. What do you think dear?”

“None for me. I lost my appetite.” Vox said, making his way over the fridge and pulling out a chilled glass bottle of beer.

“Something happen today darling?” Alastor asked as the beer was held out to him. Swiftly, he turned the blade to the side and pressed it against the cap of the bottle, removing the cap with an audible pop. 

Vox took a big gulp of the drink before he answered. “Just the usual bullshit. Employees never knowing what the fuck they’re doing. Bitchy actors complaining about doing their job.” He sighed and ran a hand through his significantly less gelled hair. “Oh yeah and Killjoy and Trench decided it would be real damn funny to fist fight on air. Those fuckers are gonna make me go insane.”

Alastor smirked and ran a hand up Vox’s chest until it came to rest on his shoulder. “You poor baby.” He teased and Vox rolled his eyes.

The beer bottle was set beside them on the island with a clink before hands moved to caress the thin hips of the radio host. Alastor sighed and dropped the knife behind him so his other hand could help Vox lift him onto the marble. He shifted back and forth for a second as Vox moved closer to settle in between his hips. Once comfortable, Alastor turned his attention back to his partner and gave him a sweet smile. “I tuned in to your show earlier. Caught about 10 minutes before shit hit the fan. It almost made up for my shitty employees.” Vox hummed, causing the other to let out another short laugh. 

“I have been told I have a very beguiling voice.”

“It’s positively hypnotizing.” Vox purred, resting their foreheads together. “How do you feel about kisses tonight, hun?”

“Good.” Alastor said as Vox leaned down and captured his lips in a soft kiss. The pair sighed into each other’s mouths. Alastor’s hand moved up from behind Vox’s neck to slide into the tousled black hair. The residue from Vox’s hair product felt weird under his fingers when he grabbed a fistfull and pulled him closer. He could feel fingers dancing at his sides before digging in and kneading at the flesh. Alastor gasped quietly and let his partner deepen the kiss further.

The room was filled with the soft sounds of sighs and lips sliding against one another as the couple pulled each other impossibly close. Vox traded his rough kneading for softer petting and Alastor slid his hands down to cup Vox’s cheeks. The fiery kiss melted into a more loving embrace that had Alastor shivering. They stayed pressed against each other just a little longer before the shiver turned into a shake. He felt his chest tighten and the muscles in his arms begin to twitch. The anxious rush of untamed adrenaline pooled into his stomach, making the previous intimate breathlessness turn stressful.

The sudden jerks from his partner caused Vox to pull back from the kiss and move away slightly to let Alastor breathe. “You okay, hun?”

Alastor nodded and took in a deep breath to calm himself down. “My apologies darling. It seems I’m still a little too anxious tonight.” He put a hand to his own face and let out a long, shaky sigh. After a few moments Alastor felt another hand gently wrap around his own and pull it off of his face. He looked up at Vox as he brought the tan hand to his lips and lovingly held it there. They stayed like that while Alastor’s breathing slowly began to return to normal, with Vox laying gentle kisses across his knuckles. “I’m fine.” Alastor whispered when the anxiety running through his system had died down to a dull panic.

Vox hummed, letting the hand pull from his lips with one final kiss. “C’mon hun. Let’s get the kitchen cleaned up and your kill packaged away. Then we can watch a movie until you feel okay enough to go to sleep.”

Alastor felt his smile drop into a smaller, more genuine expression as he nodded and slid off of the counter.

— — — — —

It had taken a while to get the mess in the kitchen cleaned up. Two bottles of bleach and two hours of frantic scrubbing later, it looked as if there had never been a terrible crime committed on the white marble counters. Vox had loving watched his boyfriend pack away all the meat in the freezer while he disposed of all the bloody scrubbers. Once done, Alastor turned and gave the tv host the widest, prettiest smile he’d ever seen and the drama was over. 

It was odd how normal it all had become. Coming home to his boyfriend chopping up a body then helping clean up the mess was his life. They hadn’t started out killing together, but it was where they had ended up and Vox would be lying if he said he didn’t love it. The blood lust that welled up in Alastor’s eyes after the hunt was hot. The sweet, blissful smile that split his face when he dug into the meat was gorgeous. They had been together for almost five years now and that smile still made his heart soar. It had never mattered to him that they didn’t have intercourse or that his boyfriend had a tendency to stress out over physically intimate acts, if it meant he could always see that smile.

“You should dress up like a zombie for Halloween this year, babe.” Vox said, pulling Alastor closer to him by the arm around his shoulder. True to his word, after cleaning and getting changed into more comfortable clothes, Vox had put on a movie to help Alastor relax. The lights were dimmed, causing the light from the tv to make their shadows dance across the wall behind the couch. A bowl of popcorn rested on top of Vox’s black sweatpants and every few seconds a tan hand reached into the bowl to steal a piece.

Alastor scoffed and rolled his eyes, glaring at the zombies tearing into the sniper on the tv. “We both know I would never have anything to do with those disgusting creatures. They give cannibals such a bad name.” He muttered, popping another piece of popcorn into his mouth.

“Babe, I think killing and eating people gives cannibals a bad name.” Vox joked, rubbing Alastor’s arm through the soft red sweater he was wearing.

Alastor turned his head towards him and gave his partner a coy smirk, which Vox returned before leaning down to kiss his forehead. The audible scream of the female lead brought their attention back to the movie. As she was torn to shreds with a humorously unrealistic amount of gore, Alastor pushed himself closer to Vox and laid his head against his chest. It would be only a few minutes before they would fall asleep. A few hours after that before Vox would wake back up, disoriented, to turn off the tv and carefully carry a sleeping Alastor up to their bedroom. A couple hours after that, an alarm would go off and their stressful, wonderful, panic-filled day would start all over again.

They’re entertainers. They’re murders. And they loved it all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for reading and lemme know what you thought. I'm sorry if anyone seems out of character, I'm not the best at writing Alastor yet and we don't really know anything about Vox. Just wanted some stressed out Vox in love with his murdery cannibal boyfriend. I also found out I am quite bad when it comes to writing kissing.
> 
> Again go watch the series if you can handle cursing and gore, it is hilarious to watch and I will see you all in my next fic or in a second chapter to this if people enjoy it. Bye guys.


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